FemaleXreader the demons that possess you
by AlonzoLovesPie
Summary: You are Sam and Deans sister. After the past comes back to haunt you, will you be okay? (I really suck at these summary thingys) This is a one-shot. :) ((I'm sorry about the cover photo, it's sucky but I messed up and couldn't undo stuff then it saved wrong and AUGH! So yeah, I just hope it gets the point of the story across. :) )) I don't own


"Sam! Pass me the salt!"

"Yeah!" Sam threw a canister at you and you caught it, pouring it over the rotting corpse. Next stop was the gasoline. You were getting the can out when you were thrown against a tree, your head slamming against it. You immediately succumbed to the darkness. Lying unconscious was no help but damn did it hurt like hell. Dean distracted the ghost while Sam finished the job of burning the bones. He rushed over to your limp body and took you in his arms.

"Hey little sis, wake up." Nothing. Your eyelids felt weighed down, it was too much work to wake up. "Come on. Please?" Nope. Dreamland sounded like a nice place to go. So you went, leaving your brothers behind.

"Sammy, is **Y/N **ok?"

"She's unconscious, we should get her back to the motel."

"Yeah." Sam carried you into the impala, lying you down in the back as he crawled into the passenger side. The Winchesters had found out about you years ago during a hunt involving a wendigo. You had been hunting it, and Sam and Dean had been to. You crossed paths and exchanged stories, surprised to find out you were siblings. The car ride went smoothly, and within fifteen minutes you were lying on a motel bed, still asleep.

"Cas? Get your ass down here **Y/N** is hurt."

"What's happened?"

"Salt and Burn, she got thrown against a tree. Can you make sure she's okay?"

"Alright." Castiel placed his fingers on your forehead, closing his eyes. Seconds later he opened them. "She will be fine. It was a small concussion that helped make her unconscious. She's very sleep deprived, stressed, and depressed. They helped make her unconscious as well. She just needs rest."

"Depressed?"

"Yes, I sensed a sadness in her aura, let her sleep. She needs it." And with that, Castiel was gone. Dean sent a concerned glance at Sam, who returned an equally concerned one. Their sister was a lot of things, depressed was not one of them. They had only met her two years ago when she was fourteen, but she had always seemed so happy.

"We'll talk to her when she wakes up."

"Okay, I'm just worried, that's all." Dean sighed and looked down at his hands. He didn't want his sister to be sad, she always was so happy.

"I know, me too." Sam said as he looked at you. You looked so… peaceful.

ooooOOOO0OOOOoooo

It sounded like some people were talking, obviously your brothers. You felt like you were lying on some old fabric, most likely the motel bed. '_Time to wake up __**Y/N**__.' _you sighed and forced your eyes to open, taking in the bright lights. It wasn't so bad. Just kinda felt like a hangover.

"Augh. I swear I am going to murder every tree that ever lived."

"Good morning to you too sleeping beauty." You forced yourself into sitting position, wincing at the pain in your arm. "How are you feeling?" It was obviously Dean asking the question, but this time general concern laced his voice, normally something only Sam had.

"Fine. My arm hurts a little. How long was I out?"

"About a day."

"Wonderous. I'm going to take a shower."

"All yours." You grabbed some clothes out of your bag and headed to the bathroom.

"By the way, where's Sam?"

"He's out getting food. Why don't you get cleaned up?"

"Okay Dean." You walk into the bathroom, setting your fresh clothes on the counter and stepping out of your old clothes. You examine your legs, which have red scars from your cuts. Your upper arms had them to. You sighed and stepped into the shower, turning it on and washing all the dirt from your body. When you're finished, you put on the fresh clothes, feeling like a completely new person.

"Hey sis."

"Good morning Sam. Is that what I think?"

"Yep. Pancakes."

"Thanks."

"Sure. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I feel great."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You know you can tell us if something is wrong, right?"

"Okay, what's up? Did I do something or…?"

"Cas told us." Dean turned towards you to see your reaction.

"Told you what?" You said, swallowing thickly. You knew what it was going to be, and you could already feel the tears starting to build up. You quickly turned away. Sam sighed and looked at Dean for help. He shrugged and looked back at you.

"**Y/N**, if you're ever depressed you can tell us, you know that right? And we love you, you don't have to feel alone." You swallowed. Obviously the easiest thing would be to lie. Just tell them that you were depressed the year your mom died and that's it.

"I'm not depressed anymore. Only really the year before I met you guys, the year my mom died. I'm fine now."

"Okay. Just talk to us if you need anything." You nod and lie down on the bed, facing away from them.

"I think I'm going to work on my homework."

"Okay **Y/N**. I don't know why you keep up with it. Home schooling yourself sounds hard."

"I like learning. It keeps my mind off things." You opened your computer and started working, ignoring the glances that Sam and Dean shot you. A few hours passed and you finished English and math, and were just about to start on history when Dean said something.

"Dude, we're out of food. Should I grab lunch?"

"Yeah, I'll come with."

"Alright. Are you coming **Y/N**?"

"No, I have work. Bring me back a burger."

"Okay." Sam and Dean pulled on their jackets and got into the impala, driving away. You suddenly felt sick, sick to your stomach, so you ran into the bathroom, emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You sat on the cold tile floor, leaning against the tub for support. You stared down at your arms and took out your pocket knife, holding it against your skin.

'_They know about your depression, they think you're ugly.' _You thought as you made a cut on your upper arm.

'_They hate you.' _Another cut, this one lower, closer to the wrist.

'_They never want to see you again.' _This thought hurt, broke your heart into a million pieces. If your brothers, your own flesh and blood, were disgusted by you and didn't want to be near you, what was the point of sticking around? So you cut, deep into your wrist, only stopping when you were too weak to carry on. Black dots danced around your eyes as you heard faint voices.

"**Y/N**, we're back. Fuck. DEAN!" You decided to fall asleep. It sounded good. You were so tired, so, so tired. So you welcomed the black dots as they grew larger, soon taking over your whole line of vision, unfortunately you were tortured with having to relive your worst memory.

ooooOOOO0OOOOoooo

"Fat!"

"Stupid!"

"Ugly!"

"Scar!"

"Faggot!" The words burned deep into your chest as you got up from the ground and ran home, not caring about the classes you would miss. Once you got home you slammed the door behind you and leaned against it, letting the searing tears roll down your face. Every day. Every day you went through this hell, but today had been worse. Today it was physical. Kicked, punched. Ugh, you hated your school. You and mom had talked about home schooling, and you thought it was time to finally start. Speaking of which…

"Mom? MOM?" You yelled, your voice cracking. It was just you and your mom, for a long, long time. She worked from home, so she would be here. You also faintly remember her car being in the driveway. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. You went up the seven stairs and into your mother's bedroom, only to see that your mom was dead. Lying on the cold, hard ground. More tears as you picked up a phone, dialing a 9, then a 1, then one more 1. You waited and they answered after two rings. "Hello? I just got home, my mom is lying on the ground, I think she's dead, I don't know what's wrong, her eyes…"

"Hello, what's your address, we're sending an ambulance. Hello? Hello, miss? Hello? Are you there? Please pick up the phone. We're going to start tracking your number. Stay calm." You didn't hear though, because you had dropped the phone on the ground. Your mom was holding something- a box. You quickly grabbed it and read the note.

'_If you're reading this my sweet, sweet __**Y/N**__, I'm dead. I'm so sorry. Take the box. You don't have time to look at everything. Go in my closet. There's a duffel bag. It has everything you'll need. Clothes, food, the like. Take the duffel, take the box, grab my wallet, my keys, your phone, and get out. If you can, grab your backpack. Inside the box is another note. Only read that when you have everything I told you to grab. Take it all. And run. Run faster than you have ever ran. I love you my sweet, now go! I mean it! GO NOW!_

You run into your mom's closet and take the duffel. It was very heavy. You swing it over your shoulder and reach into your mom's purse, grabbing her keys and her wallet. You then run out of the house, grabbing your backpack on the way. You didn't bother to lock the door as you load the car. You could hear sirens in the distance but you forgot something. One thing. The most important possession of yours. You run inside and reach under your pillow, grabbing a gold necklace and running back to the car. You started it and sped away. Only seconds later you saw an ambulance pass you by and stop at your house. You keep going, and going. Stopping at a shity motel only when it turned to 9 p.m. You parked the car and took your mom's wallet, walking to the front desk. You quickly pay for a $20 room ad unload your stuff into it. You then took the box and opened it, finding a letter.

'_My dear, sweet angel. I'm sorry I left you. But there are some things you must know. Do you remember when you were four, and were scared of the monsters? I told you they weren't real. I lied. I lied to protect you. Some things will come later on, but now you must know. Find your father. His name is John Winchester. Find him and he will tell you so much I can't tell you. You must know I love you. In this envelope, there is a picture of a man and two boys. The man is your father, the two boys are your brothers. He did not walk out on us love. He loved you more than anything. He left to protect you. I pray he is still alive. There is a number. Call it. You will most likely get his voice mail, but keep trying. If he does not pick up call the next number. The next man's name is Mark. He'll help you, train you, if John doesn't pick up. Look under the trunk of the car. It has supplies. In the duffel there are many things, go through them. Tomorrow, go to the bank under the name Kelly Silversteen. There is money, and lots of it. In the box, for gas, there is fake ID's, credit cards, use them. It's not criminal my love, it's needed. I hate to be putting you in this life. Goodbye my dearest. Mommy loves you.' _Tears stained the paper as you looked through the box. There were dozens of cards, all used for something else. Inside the duffel there was three sets of clothes, pads, tampons, toiletries, non-perishable food, and a journal. You opened the journal, surprised to see scrawly handwriting, and hand-drawn pictures. They were of ghosts, monsters, demons… how was this possible? This sucked. All of this started because people found out about your old self-harm scars and your biggest secret. Screw this.

"Will she be okay? Will she wake up?"

"She should be fine, and only if she wants to. She lost a lot of blood."

"Thank you Doctor." Footsteps were heard, followed by someone picking up your hand and holding it, followed by a wetness on your hand, probably tears. "You know sis, I don't understand. Sam found you in a puddle of your own blood. You attempted suicide. You always seem so happy I just… I don't understand. Sam was devastated and I… well… I guess I'm confused. All of a sudden this just happens. Was it because Cas told us? You always seem so hesitant to share your past…" At that you were launched into another dream. Fan-freakin-tastic.

You found yourself lying on a blanket, your arm wrapped around your partner. Oh how you loved each other. You were perfect together. A picnic basket got pushed towards you. You smiled and opened it. Immediately your smile turned to a frown. Inside was a note, and a razorblade.

'_You think I loved you? Ha. I only dated you to see how much of a faggot you were. You're an idiot. Never yours …' _your eyes were blurring from all the tears. No, this couldn't be happening! Laughing was heard from the sides of the blanket and you looked up.

"I trust you know what to do with that." The person you loved only moments ago motioned towards the basket. "Oh yeah. I know about the cuts. Goodbye forever, looser." Your former partner walked away, leaving you with trails of tears running down your face.

"**Y/N**, we love you. Dean and I do. He went to go get some coffee. It's been a while. You know? I remember walking in and seeing you like that and it just… well… It nearly killed me. You know you went into cardiac arrest about a week ago? Yeah. They thought you were going to die, before that you were fine but then… It was freaky. Dean was hesitant to leave. I didn't need the coffee, I just needed to talk with you. We'll love you no matter what, and we're sorry, I'M sorry you ever felt you needed to do this. Can you just… I feel so bad… can you give me a sign or something… a way for me to know that you're okay?" So you did. He was holding your hand, so it was obvious to use all your strength to tell him it was okay and that you loved him to, that he shouldn't blame himself. Even if that meant you would have to go back to dream world. You used all the strength you had, every morsel in your body, and squeezed his hand. Then more blackness came. And with it, another nightmare.

The one day. The one day it was too hot to wear a sweatshirt. You thought maybe-maybe no one would be able to see the scars. You thought the t-shirt covered them. But no. The day the rumors became true. You could hear all the people who were leaning against the blue and yellow lockers whispering, you could hear their laughs cascade down the hall and to your ears. Things like 'Oh my god, she does have scars' and 'Can you believe she had the guts?' Of course, to make your day worse, Angelina. The most popular girl, pushed you against a locker.

"Hey Scar. How's your day?" Then for some reason, she flipped you. You were on the outside and she was on the inside of the lockers. She grabbed your arms, and before you could register what was happening, she pulled you in and started kissing you. Gasps were heard everywhere. She 'pushed you off' then started yelling, "See! She is a little faggot! She just tried to make out with me! Augh!" Angelina then left, leaving you dumbfounded and the center of attention. Great, now look who it was. Brian, the jock. Angelina's boyfriend.

"What the hell did you do to my girlfriend you faggot?" He pushed you against the lockers, and started banging your head against them. He then grabbed your arm and twisted it. You heard a crack and then you doubled over in pain. He banged your head against the wall one more time, before hearing our principle approach. Everyone ran to class, including Brian, who dumped you on the floor and started running. The principle helped you up and brought you to the nurse's office, and you ended up with a broken arm and a mild concussion.

"Are you alright? Listen, I know it's been a rough couple of weeks…" Wait what? Weeks? "What with her almost dying and then showing signs that she would be okay… Maybe you should get some rest Dean." Suddenly, it felt like a one thousand ton brick was weighing on you, and you heard machines frantically beeping. It was getting harder to breath. Then you heard a woman talking.

"Hello. I'm Tessa. You see, you're not supposed to die. You're not on my list. I'm a reaper." I tried to talk but she stopped me. "Don't talk. I'm going to have you remember this chat. Bring it up with Dean. Tell him I'm fine. You… well, you're dying. But you're going to be fine. It's just that you have to know something. Your mom… she wasn't human. She was an angel, a fallen one. Which means you're a nephilim. Everyone wants to get their hands on you, including Death. I've decided to let you go though. Be careful. Bye **Y/N**." You suddenly shot up from the bed, taking a deep breath. A second later you had nurses and Doctors looking at you. Why… you don't know. They left pretty quickly though, which was nice.

"Hey." You looked over to the doorway and immediately regretted my decision. Dean was standing there with his same cheeky smile, with a small bear in his hands. You looked away, and felt tears staining your cheeks.

"Hey, there's no need to cry. You're okay now." Dean came over to you and took your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him. "You heard me? You're okay." You shut your eyes as tight as they could go and turned away from him, leaving him with a hurt look on his face. "I-Uhhhh- I got you a bear. I know it's kinda cheesy, but I thought you might like it. He's cute, and well… yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck and set the bear down on the table next to you. "I know you're probably tired. Why don't I leave you to get some rest?" He left the room and you could hear talking outside.

"I don't know Sam… I tried but…"

"It's okay Dean. She needs some time to adjust. Why don't I go in and talk to her. I know it won't make much a difference but I might know something to cheer her up." Dean must have nodded because a second later you heard the door open, then close.

"Hey. I know you don't want to talk to dean right now, but you might be able to talk to me." '_I doubt it.' _ You scoffed at his assumption. "I went through this to. I was depressed. I hated myself. I cut. I had a shity childhood too."

"Really?" you whispered, not sure if he could hear you.

"Yeah. I just want you to know that Dean and I will always love you, and always protect you. You can come to us if you have a problem, okay?" You nodded and smiled. A few days later you were let out of the hospital. A few weeks' later things were getting back to normal. A few months later things were back to normal, but you would never forget how Sam and Dean said they would always protect you, and always love you. Your life was worth living, so you would never, ever, try and take it away again.

**A/N: The End! YAY! So yeah, this was a one-shot. I hope you enjoyed it! I wrote this for all the people who have ever went through crap in their life. The character was gay, to clear up any confusion. I have nothing against gay people at all. I would like to include this: 1-800-273-8255. Please call if you have any problems or feel depressed or suicidal. This number will help. I wrote this mostly to raise awareness that you are never alone. Okay? You, yes I mean YOU. Even if you feel alone you aren't. This hotline is just a phone call away. You are worth it. Forever yours, XPie3**


End file.
